The Republican journal., 1887-01-27
Our Old Time Journalists.
MY IDEAS OF THEN, AND THEIR OPINION OF ME.
BY GEO. 4. .QUMBY, 'otR GEORGE OF TIE BEL
FAST JOIHNAI.


Association, at Augusta, Jan'y 2lst, 1887.
An EXPLANATION.
That ''foets born, not made men always have
believed
iii our society proved they We been deceived
Poetry to it, is just like any trade,
Is not "'livnc alatus,' but is merely made
a members seized upon, by fitness not selected,
And finds himself unanimously elected.
1t will pick him ont, and ere he'll know it,
| 1t has made and branded him poet.
In vain docs he decline, protest he is not fit
Hes simply told he mu>t-and he'll submit
Hes like the man whose somewhat frctful wife,
BY sudden illness was deprived of life.
The afflicted husband met an old line friend
Who rendered sympathy, ut her untimey end
''Was she resigned to go, to de:" said he,
''Resigned why bless your soul she had to be-
My position stated I'll now proceed
The Association poem to read.
In those good old times that hear about
In our Grandfather days of long ago;
When to travel to where it take, day,
1t usually took week or so;
When foot--tovcs always were taken to church,
And ones breath froze the sheets, twas said,
And the snow blew in through the window cracks,
And piled in drifts on the foot of the bed;
When the telegraph Wire was all unknown,
And railroads and steamboats, We're yet unborn;
And New England rum cheap and pure,
And most of the bread made from corn;
| In those good oil times '-thank God now past,
The newspaper had harder chance
Than our bright and new>v sheets of to-day,
With terms tw" dollars and pay in advance.
With the mails arriving but once a week,
To scissor out news, it was useless to try,
y couldn't then, lGiul ned
Fill It column up with Il telegraph lie.
\ steamboat explosion they never had
No base ball league, with the games it pay-
No salvation A!my, no brooklyn bridge,
And II" Tanncra raa>tins for forty days.
No John l.. sullivan had they then.
No +. 7. Barntlln OF circus fame.
And like angels visits it must have seemed
SO seldom the real Sea serpent
The type it looked as if Whitfield by hand,
And the press run by zone man power"
And if he lucky and nothing "bu.t,"
He'd run on a hundrc, or so an hour.
one man had to manage the whole concern,
Like the Admiral grand in lnaforc,
lie rtu>tvi the office aud swept the floor
Attended to everything eIao-lnd more.
Wa, editor, devil and typo too.
Did all of the work and ON erlantlS rum
.Anl u-t't up the balance OF time ON hand
BY collecting bl--Nith Il loaded gun.
| Tie wasn't particular what lie got,
Fish. flesh or fowl, ne Wuuli take for hi- pay.
Potatoes ami cur'i wool, corn, OF beans,
Pumpkins and tunips, groceries OF hay
versatile man the editor then,
WhatcYcr the topic, he must know ii.
Politics. science. religion "r what.
And furthermore he must be Il 'tluet'
For often an old subscriber woul,I come.
Wearing Wecd and It hook of deep grief,
\nd want Il touching obituary,
Em'ling in verses, and not too brief.
And the r,litor then would seize his pen,
\nd curl h- ncci> .n,erne ah his chair,
And 1ar;tnly 4alt INTO empty space,
\nd A,iia his rolA hands iii hi- uncut hair
The i!,al en'l OF tn, ,trp-gic would be,
Evolved from lii brain mill angry curses,
\ pathetic triuute t" The deceased
Close, up with THESE neatly W"r'lc'i VESTS.
"rlr, AIRY.
urath ever loves :; shining nlalk.
AuI hit It whvu hrtr
lie has -uarrhed the dear departed
~ lan'- hcy"nd the skies.
She conc and LETT tt, here below
In thi- sad slc rt tears.
she's been a constant rca'i"r of
lni- paper tWrnty years.
She always haA i cheerful heart,
Would never rIct nor n",r.
Amd not a nri4hh,r far or near
touhl heat hrr making soap.
~ic l1v",l among IT, hlty years
Mid earthly r;re~ ANA JOYS,
Her husband stays to mourn h,r hos
Also thrc" liNrlN boys.
In those good ol'' times was not All sadness,
| There were things that filled the heart wiri glad
ness.
! Oue n",lyrn curse, which they did moi have then.
Wac that terror jrc -IltogruNhic rcu,
Which Weep~ ou' iuk whrn you don't want it To,
EuI never tear when there's Wori, TO do.
There were thousands of things they never SAW
Winch they -houii have hccn truly thankful for.
The take one" ah;l.ntc cooking receipt,
From which nothing WIZ ever nrslt tit To eat,
The Base Ball ruprr, The high ~toop collar.
The English 'yudc, and eighty cent dollar.
And Il~ and best they happily missed
III" alleged American hnnor-l.
VINO for $ much a tj,r i'll current money.
| Adopts tIt, rrolt--j,unf being trnuy.
No} -uf a -ad words ot tongue, or PEN,
| The -;l,ld.~ ;,ro t!n~e ot the funny
Many boy Ea~ reached nrn'- estate.
| Ohi, iou- ''t impending fate,
Wh,'n IN. thoughtle~>lN cut TIA" silly ctpcr:
| uG writing Il sketch for hi- lur; paper.
| II nitl.prn~ prrcl1urr Ia make a hit
| l. Thought to contaiu -omr sparks of Wit.
| AnI from that time forth, his friends mss,
| That hr i- tn, "c"mn4 humori,t.
| From that fatal day his troubles begin,
| And hr rcal- the reward of his dreadful sin,
| Hes continually called upon to write,
| for tii~ on that thing. something bright.
| Have for instant uSe without hesitation.
\ sharp, witty speech to it every occasion.
| la fact to he always lna,ied with fun
| Which ne can fire on, does gun.
! should he ever refuse, try 10 protest,
| He'll be -miliugly told, hi .'frend- know best.
| And his ! cart viii sink with Il sad misgivin=,
And hc'h say to himself is life worth iying:"
| one more my ere my rhyme il done,
! Which boldly -i,'ld- uut 10 view,
| In those good OF, uf ";tull lang -ynt
| lhen the minstrel Jokcs were new.
| When the funny ''cnd man Il Joke vuuld tell,
| Nobody rltue the 'chc-tnut bell"
And under the glare of the camrhene lamp.
| In those wears ;" far away,
| The clown told stories which then were fresh,
Which he tells in the ring to-day.
| And drunken ''rcte ,Ieukin-" to them new
1 :
| Last night in my chair, Slept and dreamed.
| And like a reality all it seemed.
| dreamed that our members, one and atl,
| Had met i'll this Legislative Hall;
| When by unknown means, could not explain.
| The dead had come back to life again.
| And the ShadoWy forms of newspaper men,
| Who years ago welded the editors pen,
silently came through the opened door,
| And noiSce,sly occupied seats the lioor.
| Ghost like they sat and attcntivey listened
| Their faces siiouc and their bright eyes glistencd.
| As different reports and ESSAYS We're read,
And they seemed to feel sorry that they were dead
| At length the session tlreW near it, close,
| And upon his feet, the poet" arose.
| An eager look spread Ger the spirit faces
| And a. sti a statues they kept their places
| The President motioucd the poet 10 proceed,
| And he cleared his throat, and began to read
| Before dozen lines he had read,
| The spirit faces wore looks of dread.
| some of them seemed like those in fear,
| i'm hon